


My Favorite 'T'

by hvnlyangel80



Series: Sounds of Our Soul [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: But Dean wants to beat up Crowley and his cronies!, Crowley and his cronies beat up Castiel, Crowley uses a homophobic slur against Cas, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Musician!Dean, Not Dean!! Never Dean, Off-screen Relationship(s), Other, Physical Abuse, Singer!Cas, These boys get each other when theyre singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-22 12:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11380485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hvnlyangel80/pseuds/hvnlyangel80
Summary: College AU story from a prompt in the fb group Destiel Forever.Dean and Cas meet in college and learn that misunderstandings and miscommunications are not a good foundation for any relationship and that jumping to conclusions is not the kind of exercise we need.





	1. In Which Dean is ALMOST Late...

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you guys like this story!!!
> 
> Also... Disclaimer: I don't own SPN...
> 
> Update!!! ... I FINALLY figured out how to add the picture that the wonderfully amazing Ember_Rain13 created for me for this first part of this series!!! I hope you guys like it as much as i do... and make sure you go give her some love!!! (that's her ao3 name!!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas meet... and well, its not exactly 'love' at first sight... but... well, you'll see...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please bear with me... I honestly have NO CLUE what i am doing here. 
> 
> This is the first fic that I'm actually trying to complete, and definitely my first destiel fic. The tags will, of course, change as the story progresses... and i really, honest to chuck, have absolutely no clue where this story is going. I just know it includes and is going to center around Dean's favorite t-shirt, one that reads I'm not GAY That's a rumor started by all the guys i slept with. 
> 
> So, please... again, bear with me... any ideas will be definitely be taken into consideration and ALL comments will be read if anyone chooses to leave anything. I can't promise i will have time to respond to all comments, but i will read them, i swear!!! 
> 
> I cannot promise how long this story is going to be and i cannot guarantee when i am going to get next chapters up as my real life kinda sux at the moment. Also, i have no beta at the moment, so all mistakes are mine and i willingly own up to them. However, if any of you guys notice anything that doesn't seem to jive right with the way the story is going, please, Please, PLEASE let me know!!! *i'm a virgo and a bit of an ocd/perfectionist so you would be helping, not criticizing... promise!!!* 
> 
> Anyway... i hope you all enjoy the story these characters seem impatient for me to write as i got the first 2k out in about an hour and a half last night. Thank you for your patience and for taking the time to read.

   

 

     ‘Shit, man!! I can’t be late!!! It’s the first day of classes!!! Prof. Singer is going to flip out!!!’ Dean runs a monologue through his brain as he jumps from his bed, realizing he has 15 minutes to get dressed and cross the huge campus of The University of Kansas to make it to his first class, CryptoZoology 201. Prof. Singer, or Dr. Bobby, as Dean has come to torture him with ever since the professor tried to assert his authority in the first year class he taught, is very strict about tardiness. While Dean normally couldn’t care less about what time he makes it into class, he knows he’s on the dean’s **and**  the scholarship board’s shit list this year, which means they will be watching his every move. One wrong step and he is gone, and he can’t go home. He just _can’t_.

     Dean jumps into the first pair of jeans he lays his hands on and slips into his socks and shoes in seconds. He searches the room and his emerald green eyes light on a faded red t-shirt; as the smile touches his lips, he pulls it down over his toned body before his hands smooth the cotton down over his chest and abs, chiseled from years of workouts and sports. The material pulls across his biceps before settling like a second skin as Dean lets a soft sigh escape those full lips. If he had the time, he would reminisce over the memories he had thanks to this particular shirt, but after catching a quick glance in the mirror and running a hand through his tousled bed-head hair, he hurriedly grabs his backpack and runs out of his dorm to sprint to the beginning of his Junior Year at KU.

* * *

 

     He slips into the classroom just as Prof. Singer turns around to begin class.

 

 

 

 

 

> “Ah, _Mr. Winchester_ , just in time to join us. Thank you for gracing us with your presence this fine morning. Why don’t you have a seat next to…” The professor’s eyes roam the room for half a second before they fall on one of the only three empty seats, which happens to be next to a sophomore, one that the professor remembers from his class last year and his eyes light up. “ _Mr. Novak_.”

     Castiel Novak looks up at his name and glances first, at the professor, then to the student he is speaking to, who is still standing in the doorway. Mr. Winchester, as he was called, is staring him down now and Castiel can’t pull his gaze away. Castiel takes in his slightly wet shoes first, noticing little blades of grass sticking to the edges of his generic brand Wal-mart sneakers and peeking out from between the soles and the linoleum floor of the classroom as the boy taps his foot nervously. His eyes travel upwards, and his breath hitches as he realizes the jeans this man- for he cannot, in any world, be called a ‘boy’, Castiel realizes- is wearing fit him like a glove. Upwards still, and he notices that the slight bulge in the man’s pant leg is to the left and decently long and a smile tugs Castiel’s lips as the thoughts flitting through his mind take a naughtier turn. His tongue snakes out slightly to moisten his lips as they have suddenly become dry as a desert. The red catches his attention as his eyes move higher still and he has to stifle a soft groan when he notices how the shirt fits his body like it was painted on. The words _**I’m Not Gay**_ , in big bold print across the shirt bring a bright pink tint to Castiel’s cheeks as he realizes where his thoughts were headed and he tries to rein them in. The last time Castiel had a crush on a straight guy, not only did his heart shatter, he ended up leaving the state to escape the embarrassment he had suffered at the hands of the boy’s friends. Refusing to finish reading the shirt, he forces his eyes to finally take in the face of this mystery man that he is apparently going to be forced to endure for at least this semester. He takes in the jaw-line, the cheek-bones, the pouty full lips that make Castiel lick his own once more, the nose, the freckles that dust that perfect nose, and finally the eyes, those bright, brilliantly shining, emerald green eyes. Castiel’s breath is gone when he locks eyes with this Mr. Winchester and then his breathing starts again, rather raggedly, as Mr. Winchester begins to move toward the empty seat that Professor Singer indicated.

     Shifting in his chair, trying to discretely adjust his suddenly tightening pants as he watches Mr. Winchester move toward him with the grace of a panther, Castiel tries to bring his focus back to the front of the room and on their teacher. The professor is busy with something in the book on his podium, giving everyone a chance to settle again after the slight interruption before going through roll call. Resolutely ignoring the man beside him, Castiel answers the required ‘Here’ when Prof. Singer calls his first and last name – Castiel Novak. In his peripheral vision he sees Mr. Winchester’s head turn sharply at his voice, like something about it was unexpected. Not that that is anything Castiel is unused to. Everyone that meets him comments on the deep timbre of his voice the first time they hear it, most commenting how it doesn’t sound like it should come out of someone who looks like he does. Hell, some of the girls that have tried to pursue him and come up empty handed have stated it is wholly unfair that he should have a voice like that only to use it to whisper into the ears of willing same sex partners and how he should give them a chance to change his mind, like he has any control over the fact that while he appreciates the female form, it does nothing for him and never will.

 

     Dean hears this rough, deep voice escape the student that was studying him so thoroughly, the one Dr. Bobby called Castiel? and his head shoots straight up. He studies the boy's face, notices the way his thick, chocolate brown, wavy hair falls over his forehead to curl around his ears. Dean sees the way his jaw is stuck out, almost in a challenge or defiance and Dean knows he is purposely not looking at him anymore. Not sure why that is, he takes a moment to get a better look at the boy next to him. The hair that makes Dean want to reach out and thread his fingers through it is only the start. His eyes travel over the curve of his earlobe and Dean’s thoughts travel to what kind of noise he might make if Dean were to trace it with his tongue. Following his jawline, Dean realizes that Cas (as Dean has come to think of him in these few short seconds) hasn’t shaved in at least a day, as there is a smattering of soft hairs causing a very sexy 5 o’clock shadow, and he has to rub his hands along his jeans to keep from reaching out, testing the feel of said stubble. Dean’s eyes move lower and he sees Cas’ Adam's Apple bob as Cas swallows and a soft puff of breath escapes between Dean's open lips at the movement. Taking in the blindingly white button up the boy next to him is wearing, he suddenly realizes that he wants to wrap his arms around this boy and explore every inch of his body. Before his thoughts can wander farther, he hears a distinctly irritated voice calling his name.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> **_“Dean Winchester!!! Answer when I call your name son!!!”_ ** Prof. Singer practically screams at him as the rest of the class chuckles.

     Cas just keeps facing forward, but Dean notices that the slight pink that tinged his cheeks earlier has deepened a shade or two and seems to be creeping down his neck.

 

 

 

 

 

>  “Huh? Oh… um ‘Here’” he answers before ducking his head to hide the physical evidence of his own embarrassment, not at being the object of the teacher’s ire, but rather, at being caught letting his thoughts wonder so fully around someone he hasn’t even ‘technically’ met yet.

     But that voice, it really got to Dean, and while his head is ducked, he, too, takes a second to ‘adjust’ himself, and in his own peripheral, he realizes Cas can’t seem to sit still. Taking a sideways glance, first at the professor, to make sure he is ocupado, he rubs his hand over the back of his neck as he tries to sneak a glance at Cas again. Taking in the rest of him, the jeans – while not skin tight, they are body hugging Dean can tell – the shoes – not your typical sneaker, but not exactly black tie affair either – and then the socks play peek-a-boo as Cas moves and Dean notices they are two different colors, one a dark, navy blue and the other a deep, forest green. Before he can even think about the fact that he had instinctively opened his mouth to ask Cas about the socks, their teacher has started the lesson for the day and the chance is gone. Dean sighs heavily at the lost opportunity and turns to better pay attention.

 

* * *

 

    At the end of the class, Prof. Singer gives them their assignments and then finally dismisses them. Castiel hurriedly packs his books and papers into his messenger bag, shrugs his arms into his long tan trench coat, slings the bag over his shoulder and is up and gone before half the class has even moved. He most definitely was not going to give the gorgeous sandy-blonde haired man with the voice that made his every nerve stand on end a chance to make any kind of comment about the slow, languid way Castiel had practically undressed him with his eyes at the beginning of the class. No way, no siree. And he refused to acknowledge, even to himself, that he missed most of the class because he was imagining the man, Dean was it, moaning his name in that rolling lilt that came out as smooth as silk against a baby’s bare bottom. Nope, that never happened either.

  
     Dean stares dumbly at the door to the classroom wondering if he smelled or something as it looked to him like Cas barely breathed during class, or if he did it was shallow and unnoticeable in the way Cas held himself while they listened to the lecture of the day. His shoulders fall slightly but he refuses to let it bother him, or so he tries to tell himself. But as the rest of the students file out, Dean can’t help but wonder, with a little glimmer of hope, if they are going to share any other classes.

 

 

 

 

 

>    
>  “ _Mr. Winchester!_ May I please see you before you leave?” Professor Singer asks as Dean unsuccessfully tries to sneak out with the last few students of the class. When they are all gone and Dean has made his way to stand in front of the desk in the front of the room, the professor speaks again.  
>  “You know how I feel about tardiness Mr. Winchester. While I realize you were not actually late today, I am making sure you are aware I do realize it was only just that you were not. Please do not make a habit of it this year or I will have to inform the **Dean** _and_ the **Board** and I don’t think you want to lose your scholarship just because you can’t wake up early enough to make it here on time. Am I understood?”

  
     One hand rubs his temple while Dean stands there listening to the professors spiel.

 

 

 

 

 

> “Yeah, yeah, I gotcha… _**Dr. Bobby**_.”

     He responds with a smirk, unable to help himself from goading the ‘old man’. Though he will never admit it, Dean actually looks up to Professor Singer and respects the fact that while Dean has not let up the last three years, Dr. Bobby has not let anything Dean says or does get in the way of teaching him. Dean disappears through the door of the classroom before the professor can respond, leaving him standing there shaking his head, knowing something transpired between two of his favorite students. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, if you read with the original beginning notes, I know i said i wasn't going to leave the end of the chapter there... but when i came back to it, i don't know if i lost where that train of thought was going, or if i fired the conductor of that train and decided better/otherwise. Plus, a little over 2k words seemed like a good place to end the first chapter. I hope everyone likes it!!! And i hope the formatting is a little better and easier on the eyes to read. Thank you all for your patience as i am getting the hang of this place. Right now i'm kinda wishing i knew how to write better in HTML though, that's for sure. But c'est la vie. Let me know your thoughts, likes, hates, things you want me to maybe include. Tell it all to me!!! I don't know about you guys... but does it seem like Bobby might have had an idea something would happen if he put them two boys together??? Let me know in the comments!!! Love ya guys!!!


	2. In Which Cas is ALMOST Early

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of class is over and yeah, neither one is unaffected by the other. It shows... BOY does it show!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok... how do y'all feel about Playlists??? With the way the story is going... music is going to play a big part in this i think and I'm being inspired by many different songs/artists. If you guys think you would like to know what I'm listening to, let me know in the comments and i will edit to add a playlist in the end notes. 
> 
> Also, im beginning to have fun with the shirts. Yes, this is slightly reminiscent of Ten Inch Hero... but i can't help it. My brain takes an idea and runs!!! Not all of the shirts will be ones Pressley wore... some of them i actually have or some friends have *i have fun with the t-shirts in real life too... lol* 
> 
> Anyway... Enough talking... i hope you enjoy this chapter.

 

* * *

   By the time Castiel makes it back to his dorm room after all of his classes of the day, he has come to the realization that the gods hate him. Not only does he now have to sit next to the most gorgeous being of **all** creation first thing every morning, he has 3 of his 4 other classes in which to figure out how to avoid said being… or figure out how to stare without getting caught. Because he knows both of these are going to be impossibilities, Castiel can’t help but groan out loud when he lays down on his bed in the corner of the room, his arm flopping over his eyes in an effort to block out Dean’s deliciously green eyes staring back at him after the studious way Castiel had practically undressed him this morning.

 

 

> “What’s the matter, Cassie??” a voice breaks into Castiel’s internal turmoil and he instantly realizes his roommate is not out, as he had hoped.
> 
> “Nothing, Zar, nothing at all.”

A heavy sigh leaves Castiel’s body because he knows from rooming with the junior last year that he probably won’t leave it alone. Mentally he is already trying to come up with an excuse for his mood that Balthazar will believe.

> “Oh, c’mon darling. Tell your buddy Balthazar everything! You know you want to!!!” Balthazar tries to wheedle the information out of his friend.

Balthazar is the only one on campus that knows how Castiel ended up at KU, and while he may tease Castiel from time to time about some things, Castiel also knows that he can trust his friend not to say anything to anyone else. Instead he answers with:

> “I promise it’s nothing. Well, nothing I can’t handle anyway.”
> 
> “Okay. If you insist.” Balthazar gives in, making Castiel wonder if maybe it wasn’t too easy. “But you know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Castiel brings his hands down over his face with a deep groan and Balthazar knows the dam is about to break. He just has to wait for the pinhole to turn into a spewing fountain.

> “How do you forget someone you haven’t even said _one_ word to?”

The quietly whispered words softly escape from Castiel’s lips and Balthazar sits straight up on his bed, eyes wide.

> “Cassie has a crush?! _**OOhhh**_ … do tell dear ol’ Balthazar everything!!”

Castiel sits up, drawing his feet up onto the bed underneath him cross-legged. After another deep sigh, his fingers carve through his hair, almost pulling, before settling around his neck in that universal way that screams exhaustion.

>  “Wait, maybe I CAN just change seats!! Or classes even! Or maybe I can just change schools?!” the last being said more as a question with a sideways glance at his best friend, hell, one of his only friends in this state, let alone at this school.

Zar, as Castiel has fondly come to call him, just waits patiently for him to let it all out. He knows that when Castiel has himself this worked up, nothing anyone says is going to get through to him. So he sits there, letting Castiel work through it on his own, picking imaginary lint off of the black turtleneck and smoothing the creases out of his dark navy blue jeans. When he can see that Castiel has either calmed down or at least given into the futility of his thoughts, he lets a tiny smile tug at the corner of his lips.

>  “Will you at least tell me the lucky boy’s name?”
> 
> “Dean Winchester” comes the reply, with another sideways glance to watch for any reaction or recognition.

The smile that was tugging finally yanks itself across Balthazar’s face at the name of one of the most popular, yet unattainable, bachelors to ever set foot on such a prestigious campus. Before Zar can even say a word, Castiel’s head is in his hands again and he has started rocking back and forth, mentally berating himself for his stupidity and why can he never learn and how he is done for, his career as a renowned parapsychologist is over before it has begun because he can’t get it through his head that nobody wants him and never –

>  " _ **Stop it Cassie!”**_ comes the sharply bitten response to the words that never left his mouth. “I know what you are doing in that b-e-a-utiful head of yours and you need to stop it!”

Zar comes to sit on the bed next to him and Castiel feels his hand soothing across his back, rubbing gently until the words that spin in his head finally quiet and he can stop rocking long enough to look up.

> “What am I going to do Zar? I _LITERALLY_ have said **NOTHING** to him and I can’t get those eyes to stop swimming before my own. Professor Singer made him sit next to me first thing this morning, and everyone knows once you have a seat in Singer’s class, you’re there _all_ year. To add to that, we have Chem. and Chem. Lab together, I get to torture myself by staring at the back of his head from a few seats away in Psychology 201, AND Dr Jody Mills seemed to be angling to get us in closer proximity this afternoon in English Lit. The only break I get from him is lunch and Gym, which is a small favor, as I would hate for him to see me in those class required uniform shorts. _Could you imagine?_ ”

Cas continues with the monologue until he runs out of words, or realizes he is rambling, and takes a deep breath to steady his racing heart. Running his fingers through his hair one more time he looks up at Balthazar again, pleading with his eyes to help him find a way out of this mess. All Balthazar can do is shrug his shoulders.

> “All I know of the man is he’s here on scholarship so he stays in the dorms. Nobody knows why, considering his family is from here. You would think he would live at home and commute. No idea if he plays for _**our**_ team, but he is a damn fine football player. Led us to championships the two years he’s been here. He looks damn good in his uniform too, if I do say so myself.” Balthazar said with a little noise of appreciation.

Castiel gives him a look out of the corner of his eye and Balthazar puts his hands up in mock surrender.

> “Hey, I’m just saying. Maybe you should talk to him?! I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”
> 
> “Oh, no… it is… actually I’m pretty sure it’s _much_ worse.” Cas responds before getting his phone and headphones out.

Putting the ear buds in, he fiddles with the menus, then lies back against his headboard, eyes closed. Balthazar can hear the music, and then the voice of David Draiman singing ‘Sounds of Silence’ comes through. Getting up to leave Cas to his thoughts, he taps his foot and motions that he is going. Cas nods his head then closes his eyes once again, losing himself for a few hours.

 

> * * *
> 
> “Okay Dean. What gives?”

Jo Harvelle leans against the bar in the Roadhouse, the little bar on the outskirts of town that she grew up in, thanks to her parents owning the only respectable place to hang out at for 30 miles. She watches him as he refuses to meet her gaze pretending to be busy doing the sound check she knows he could do blindfolded and asleep.

>  “Don’t do that Jo. Just drop it.” He responds as he tunes his guitar.

Ellen, Jo’s mother and the woman who has been like a second mom to him and his brother, Sam, lets him play there for an hour or two when his shifts are slow enough. He plucks at the strings again, tilting his head with his ear closer to the instrument on his knee.

>  “That’s the third time you have played the same note, AFTER already fixing the string 5 other times Dean. If that’s not the note you want then you are deaf because you know it hasn’t changed since you finished playing _last_ night! **Now** ,” she says as she moves through the two tables and chairs between them and stands in front of her ex-boyfriend/brother-figure with her arms crossed and tapping her foot. “What is the matter? I don’t think I have ever seen you this worked up. Not even when you were afraid to break up with me.”

Knowing she won’t leave it alone, he strums his fingers down the strings and sits back in the chair with a huff…

>  “I just don’t get it. I walked into class, and Singer tells me sit next to this guy, who practically starts eye-fucking me as soon as he sees me standing there, and then when I go to sit down it’s like I have the fucking plague or something. Not a glance, not a word. Hell, it almost looked like he wasn’t breathing.” Dean looks around at the almost empty bar and then motions her closer. “Do I stink??” he asks her in a hushed whisper.

Jo leans in a tad, takes a deep breath through her nose, wrinkles it a little, and then leans back.

>  “Are you wearing Axe? Oh that is so ‘90s Dean!!” She giggles at the affronted look on his face. “You need to wear Ralph Lauren Polo, or Hugo Boss, or even Curve for Men; something from this century at least.”

She watches him for a moment or two as he thinks it over.

>  “Why do you care anyway? I thought you were done with dating after Lisa. Or was that you were just done with dating women?”

She casts a look at him, staring until he squirms in the chair on the stage.

> “What? He was cute, okay? Is that what you want to hear?? He was really… really cute.”

Dean sighs and thinks back to the rest of his day, remembering the sky blue eyes that met his for a brief second before looking away as he walked into three of his other classes. A soft smile lights on his lips and he is pulled from his thoughts by her voice once more.

>  “Oh my lord Dean.” She shakes her head. “Well do I know him?”
> 
> “I doubt it. His name is Castiel Novak?” he says, looking for any sign of recognition and finding none. “He’s kinda nerdy looking actually… but _hot_ nerdy looking. Button up dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with a blue tie that made his eyes look even bluer. And I don’t know how he got that to look good with a pair of jeans but damn.”
> 
> “And?” her voice pulls him from his thoughts yet again.
> 
> “And _what_? And **nothing**! I told you, he barely even _**BREATHED** _ around me! Let alone look at me!”
> 
> “Except when he was eye-fucking you that is!” Jo giggled.
> 
> “Yeah, and if I hadn’t watched every second of his eyes moving up my body I would have never believed he knew I was anywhere in the room, so, yeah.”

Jo starts to say something else, but a customer walks in and Ellen hollers for Dean from the back room, so they end it there; but Dean sees in Jo’s eyes, she isn’t going to let this go, and she is like a dog with a bone when her interest is piqued.

* * *

The first week of school goes much the same for Dean: classes, practice, shifts at the Roadhouse, sleep, wake up the next day and do it again. Surprisingly, he isn’t late again, but he refuses to acknowledge it just might be because he is eager to see a certain set of blues each morning. He just wants to stay on the board’s good side he tells himself. And that isn’t irritation he’s feeling over the fact that Cas still hasn’t looked at him, not since the first time they met that is. He just hasn’t been getting enough sleep. And when he does sleep, his dreams are plagued by blue… blue everywhere… just that shade.

When he gets back to his dorm after his late night shift Friday, Dean figures he ought to take advantage of the fact that everyone is asleep or out and get a shower. Tucking his guitar in the corner of his room, he grabs his shower bag, slings his towel over his shoulder, and heads to the second floor of the dorm because the showers up there have better water pressure. Whistling to himself as he shuts the door behind him, he sees a bag on the bench along the wall and wonders who had the same idea as him. He didn’t hear the water as he was coming in so the person is almost done or just getting started.

>  “Anybody in here??” he asks…

Seeing one stall with the curtain closed, the one by the wall with the bench and bag. He goes to knock on the brick that separates the stalls and the curtain flings open and there they are... Blue eyes… wide and bright, staring back at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He notices a movement and his eyes flick down to see Cas swallow, causing Dean to groan. The sound seems to jog Cas from his trance, who lets his eyes flick down as well before he brushes past Dean to shove his belongings into his bag.

>  “Oh, hey man, sorry.” Dean says as he swings around, watching Cas, standing there with his towel wrapped around his waist, wishing he could trace the droplets of water as they leave his dark as sin chocolate brown hair to race to the edge of that towel. 
> 
> “It’s okay.” is the gruff reply he gets.
> 
> “Hey, look, did I do something?” Dean asks before he even checks the words through his filter.

Cas stops, going completely still, then tilts his head and looks at Dean sideways, looks down at Dean’s green shirt and smiles at the big bold words, ***Orgasm Donor*** on the front, remembering what the back says from one of their classes, ***Ask For Your Free Sample*** , he chuckles and turns back to finish packing his bag.

Shoes in hand, bag over his shoulder, and towel tucked tightly around his waist still, he steps toward Dean. Inches away, looking into Dean’s eyes, he stops, almost like asking for permission, and while Dean couldn’t tell you what he sees there, he can’t break the hold Cas’ gaze has on him.

>   _“Now who’s the deer?”_ Dean thinks to himself just as Cas closes the last of the distance and presses his lips softly to Dean’s parted ones. A soft sigh escapes them both as Cas pulls away and without a word is out of the bathroom.

It takes Dean a full five minutes to find his brain again and he opens the door. Nothing but empty halls any which way he looks.

* * *

Breathing heavily, Cas leans back against the door of his dorm. Thanking the gods above that Zar is still… wherever Zar goes at night, he runs his hands down over his face, then up through his hair. Having moved at a ‘normal’ pace through the hallway, he ran up the stairs once the door to the stairwell closed behind him. Unable to stop the chuckle that bubbles out of him, he thinks of how the color of Dean’s shirt emphasized the green in his eyes… but up close, like he just was, he could swear he saw flecks of gold in them. Cas closes his eyes and his fingers ghost over his lips remembering the pressure. When he finally moves to put his things up and put on his boxers and tank top to sleep in, he can’t help but thank whichever guardian angel of his mucked up his daily routine and had him showering hours after his normal time.

When Balthazar finally makes it into their dorm, he makes a mental note to ask his roomie about the dreams that put such a peaceful smile on his face.


	3. In Which Nothing Else Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar, Meg, and Charlie convince Castiel to go out with them saturday night and who do they see? You guessed it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those of you that are still reading!! Im sorry if there isnt enough smut... but they just havent gotten there yet! I pray that you can be patient, because Dean is going to have to be if he wants to figure out this enigma called Castiel Novak.
> 
> Update - added a little bit of artwork created for the story by the lovely Ember_Rain13... Isn't she wonderful?!?!?! Go show her some loves peeps!!! maybe we can convince her to do more work for the rest of the story!!! lol

     Dean wakes from his fitful slumber with a gasp, and _**NO**_ , that wasn’t a name on his lips, it was just a gasp. However, that thought doesn’t stop his hand from moving to said lips and pressing softly, almost as softly as Castiel lips had done hours earlier.

     He looks over at his roommate’s bed, thankful that Alastair didn’t wake up. Although he is a running back for the Jayhawks, and one of the best players on the team – Dean grudgingly admits - KU’s football team would do so much better if they didn’t have to deal with Alastair’s ego.

     Alastair was supposed to be the ‘big man on campus’ before Dean enrolled. He had the part down, too. Tall and well built, his legs went on for miles. Blonde hair that was more suited for a California university, his eyes were ice blue to the point they were almost white. When Dean showed up with his scholarship ride, Alastair was ‘friendly’ enough. That is, if you called missing every catch and dropping every hand-off during Dean's first days ‘friendly’. While they would never be friends, they were able to be amicable roommates once Dean made it clear he wasn’t interested in whatever Alastair was offering. The man had an impressive rebound rate as later that same weekend Alastair was getting turned down by Jo, Ruby, and Tessa as they waited on everyone in the bustling Roadhouse.

     Hearing a soft snore from across the room, Dean comes back to the present, or at least the more recent past. His thoughts turn to a brighter shade of blue as he recalls the encounter with Cas in the shower room upstairs. His breath hitches as he remembers the water dripping over his shoulders and running rivulets down his chest. Dean can almost feel again the urge to reach out and trace the droplets. A moan surfaces as he can see Cas in front of him… inches from kissing him. Then he is gone. If it wasn’t for the steam still coming from the stall Cas had just vacated, Dean would have thought he had imagined the entire encounter.

     Shrugging the thoughts, and the fragmented dreams, from his mind, Dean rolls over onto his stomach with a grunt and tries to go back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

  

 

 

 

> “I STILL can’t believe I let you three talk me into coming out tonight!”

     Cas sighs in agitation as the quartet step into the Roadhouse Saturday night. He stops to look around the bar and he has to admit it has a welcoming feel. He sees people in all manner of dress, from cowboy getups to what could be called ‘Goth’ or ‘Emo’ outfits on those that have to be from the university. In the corner there are a few pool tables and across the way from the actual bar is a small stage were a group of students are getting ready for their round at karaoke.  

 

 

 

> “You’ve been cooped up in our room for far too long Cassie. It is high time you got out and met some people, made some friends. You need to get outside that gorgeous head of yours from time to time darling’.” Balthazar says to Castiel as he pulls him close for a quick squeeze of his shoulder.

     Balthazar and Meg move toward a table and chairs near the only empty pool table left, asking Charlie if she will get their drinks. Charlie, seeing how overwhelmed Cas is by the scene, takes his hand over her shoulder and leads him to the bar that sits centralized in the building and hides the kitchen behind. Following her bobbing red ponytail through the throng of people, they sidle up to the bar and Charlie whistles through her fingers.

 

 

 

> “Yo, Jo. I got some new blood for you!” she hollers before turning to ask Cas a question. “What’s your poison, babycakes?”
> 
> “Uh, what do they have?” he asks, eyeing the selection on display behind the bar with a questionable glance.
> 
> “Jack, Jim, George, Johnny Red, Johnny Black, Jose, and Mark… All my favorite men!” comes the reply with a little giggle. “Pretty much, if you want it, they have it or Jo can make it. She was raised in this bar and when she was old enough, she went and got her bartenders license so she could help draw in the ‘younger’ crowd with the appeal of mixed drinks. However, if you prefer just a plain ol’ beer, they have quite the selection there as well."
> 
> “Hey baby!” Jo comes to the end of the counter where Charlie and Cas wait. She leans over the bar and kisses Charlie, letting it deepen just enough that Cas’ eyes widen at the public display. “So glad you could make it. I’ve missed you!”

    She finally ‘notices’ the company with Charlie and smiles at the shell-shocked look on his face.

 

 

 

> “What’s the matter, darlin’? Never seen two hot chicks kiss?”

    Charlie smacks Jo on the arm, telling her to quit teasing him so she can do the introductions.

 

 

 

> “Cassie, this is Joanna Harvelle. Just call her Jo, though, or ya might get hit,” the last having been said with a giggle, as she is indeed hit for that. “Jo… this is Castiel Novak.”
> 
> “Castiel???” Jo’s eyes go wide and a huge grin spreads across her face.

    She licks her lips as she gives him a very thorough once over. Dean’s confession unbeknownst to the two before her, she takes this moment to take in Castiel’s faded blue jeans, almost tight enough to be considered skinny jeans. She notices the black button up tucked into the top of the jeans and her eye catches the fact that the shirt has green pinstripe designs in it. Seeing that the tie he wears is a matching green, she smiles as she raises her eyes to meet the questioning bright blue ones that stare back at her.

 

 

 

> “Yes. I know. It’s a mouthful. My mother once told me it was an angel’s name.” Castiel’s eyes get misty at that but it’s only a half a second before he is back and the only reason Jo noticed it was because she was staring into the eyes that had been haunting her ex/brother/best friend for the last week.

     Ever since Dean confessed to Jo about his inexplicable crush on the other boy, Jo has been keeping her eye out in case he decided to wander into their little watering hole. Diligent as ever, her girlfriend, Charlie, brought the lamb right to the slaughter.

 

 

 

> “I like it!” she responds with a little smile. “So what are we drinking tonight? Are Balthazar and Meg getting their usual?” she asks as she turns back to the love of her life.
> 
> “Yeah, and mine too, please babe.” Charlie answers before turning to Castiel.
> 
> “Um... I’ll have a Tie Me To The Bedpost?” he answers the unspoken question with the first drink that pops into his mind.

   A soft smile touches his lips as remembers the one time his older brother Gabriel had snuck him into a bar and made him drink. While the night wasn’t completely unpleasant, the drink he had tried had been the best part of the memory. He had had several.  

 

 

 

> “Anything for my Queen and her court!” Jo smiles as she turns to get the drinks started for their group. “If you want to go join the others, I can bring the drinks in just a minute.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

     They wander back slowly through the crowds of people, strains of a song Castiel has heard, but can’t remember the name to reaches him through the voices that crowd them. Charlie tries to point out people he vaguely remembers from this class or that and introduces Castiel to some of the locals that practically live at the bar as well.

     By the time they have made their way back to Balthazar and Meg, Jo has reached them with their drinks. Taking a swig of what appears to be her own beer, she seems to be readying a cue stick for a game as Balthazar finishes racking the balls on the table.

 

 

 

> “Solids or stripes?” Jo asks Charlie as they approach the table and Charlie unpacks a cue out of what Castiel assumes is Jo’s bag since he doesn’t remember any of them getting any cues out of the car when they got there.

     Taking his drink from the table, he sits in one of the empty chairs and watches his friends enjoy themselves. A couple hours, two and a half more drinks, and several badly sang karaoke songs later, Castiel is completely lost in his thoughts as they turn back and forth to a set of green-gold eyes and sandy blonde hair that his fingers are still itching to run through. The sound of a guitar breaks through his reverie. There is a pause, and then a very familiar voice breaks through with the beginning chorus of _**Unsteady**_ by X Ambassadors.

 

 

 

> _“Ho-old. Hoold on. Hold on to me. ‘Cause I’m a little unsteady. A little unsteady.”_

     Castiel breathes deep at the pain he can hear in those words. He doesn’t hear Meg or Charlie asking if he is all right as he stands up and, as though in a trance, moves around the back of the bar to see the person he knows the voice belongs to.

 

 

 

> _“Ho-old. Hoold on. Hold on to me. ‘Cause I’m a little unsteady. A little unsteady.”_

     Zar waves Meg and Charlie quiet and Jo looks over at him with a knowing glance and a conspiratorial grin.

     Cas makes his way to the darkest part behind the bar and stands there, leaning against the wall, watching, enraptured as the guitar joins again, accompanied by someone on the keyboard setup on the stage.

 

 

 

> _“Mother, come here. Approach; Appear. Ooh, Daddy, I’m alone. ‘Cause this house don’t feel like home. If you love me, don’t let go. Oh-whoa. If you love me, don’t let go.”_

     Cas watches as Dean performs for the patrons of the Roadhouse, his eyes closed as though to block anyone from seeing what is going through his head while he sings and Cas’ heart breaks a little at the pain he can still hear in the voice that haunted his dreams last night.

 

 

 

> _“Ho-old. Hoold on. Hold on to me. ‘Cause I’m a little unsteady. A little unsteady. Ho-old. Hoold on. Hold on to me. ‘Cause I’m a little unsteady. A little unsteady.”_

     Castiel closes his eyes and lets the music flow over him.

 

 

 

> _“Mother, I know, that you’re tired of being alone. Dad I know you’re tryin’ to fight when you feel like flyin’, but if you love me don’t let go. Ooh whoa if you love me don’t let go. Ho-old. Hoold on. Hold on to me. ‘Cause I’m a little unsteady. A little unsteady. Ho-old. Hoold on. Hold on to me. ‘Cause I’m a little unsteady. A little unsteady. Ho-old. Hoold on. Hold on to me. ‘Cause I’m a little unsteady. A little unsteady.”_
> 
> “They couldn’t have written a more perfect song for Dean if they actually knew him” Jo’s voice breaks through Cas’ thoughts as the last round of chorus and the music drifts away. She looks thoughtfully at him as he tries to control whatever emotions might have played across his face at her appearance.
> 
> “You should talk to him.” And with that, she is back to the group at their table.

     Still unsure, but considering it, he stands away from the wall. Apparently, his movement catches Dean’s eye because he is suddenly pinned under the green gaze. Hurt, anger, frustration wash away to resignation and then relaxation as he sees Cas and he moves to set his guitar down in its stand before turning back to go say hi. As he stands up, Cas notices the shirt Dean is wearing and wonders how he had missed it before. Bright pink with big bold black letters across it- **_DON’T LAUGH! This is Your Girlfriend’s Shirt!_**

     Castiel’s eyes shoot up to Dean’s face again and Dean can see panic? there. With a groan, Castiel quickly turns and like a shot is out the back door beside the entrance to the kitchen.

 

 

 

>  
> 
> “Stupid! Stupid, _stupid,_   ** _stupid!!!_** ” Castiel groans and berates himself. “ **How** could you forget? Do you want to end up in the hospital _again_?” Cas paces back and forth behind the roadhouse, talking… well… if he’s completely honest it’s more like chiding himself, trying to talk himself into being able to go back inside as if nothing happened. Instead, he gets an idea that he later thinks had to be the alcohol talking to him and he goes back inside, grabs the rest of his fourth drink and downs it before heading to the stage.
> 
>  

     Seeing Dean not there gives him just that extra bit of courage he needs and he steps up to the guy that was playing keyboard for Dean. He and two guys on the stage speak for a minute and then before he can back out, the band starts playing and the beginning riff of “Nothing Else Matters” begins to fill the bar.

 

 

 

> _“So close. No matter how far. Couldn’t be much more from the heart. Forever trusting who we are. And nothing else matters.”_

     Castiel’s voice, deep and gravelly, lifts over the din of the crowds and Balthazar, Meg, Charlie, and Jo exchange glances before abandoning their table to hurry over to see their friend singing, matching shocked expressions on three of the four faces. Jo just stands there smiling as her eyes search the crowd for Dean.

 

 

 

> _“Never opened myself this way. Life is ours; we live it our way. All these words I don’t just say. And nothing else matters.”_ Castiel’s eyes drift closed as he loses himself in the song.
> 
> _“Trust I seek, and I find in you. Every day for us something new. Open mind for a different view. And nothing else matters.”_

     Jo watches in awe as his voice, raw and unrepentant, does so much justice to one of the greatest songs of all time and she can’t help but think to herself that Dean sure can pick the good ones – if she does say so herself. As her brother, Ash – the one on drums – and Kevin, the keyboard/bass player, continue to accompany, she searches again for Dean. Finding him in near the same exact spot she found Castiel in earlier, she catches his eye, and then looks up at the stage. Dean’s eyebrows scrunch up in confusion so she throws a nod in. At the eye roll she receives from Dean, she marches over to him and in a loudly hushed whisper she tells him _**“DO SOMETHING!”**_ with a very pointed glance at his guitar still in the stand.

     Dean moves, begrudgingly though it may have been, and takes a spot to the back of Cas’ right shoulder, getting the guitar ready before the bridge begins and Jo sighs in quiet relief that Castiel doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

 

 

 

> _“Never cared for what they do! Never cared for what they know! But I know! So close, no matter how far. It couldn’t be much more from the heart. Forever trusting who we are. And nothing else matters. Never cared for what they do! Never cared for what they know! But I KNOOOW!”_

     Cas looks out over the crowd during the break in words. He knows this song like he knows every freckle on Dean's face already and he knows when it’s time to sing and time to let the music just wash over him. He sees Zar, Meg, Charlie, and Jo all standing there with giant shit-eating grins on their faces and he can’t help but smile back even though his stomach sinks a little that he can’t find Dean.

 

 

 

> _“I never opened myself this way. Life is ours, we live it our way. All these words I don’t just say. And nothing else matters!”_ His voice deepens with the words and the emotion he feels washing through him, and true to a Metallica song, the next part is almost growled out.
> 
> _“Trust I seek, and I find in you! Every day for us something new! Open mind for a different view! And Nothing Else Matter-hers!!! Never cared for what they say! Never cared for games they play! Never cared for what they do! Never cared for what they know!! And I knoooooow! Yea-ah!!!”_

     As the guitar breaks out in the solo, Cas looks over to Kevin. Of course, he is very confused to see that he is not playing, but instead looking behind Cas in the other direction. Cas, turning, sees Dean jamming away and Cas is so enthralled that he almost misses his cue to start the last verse.

 

 

 

> _“So close, no matter how far. Couldn’t be much more from the heart. For-ever trusting who we are… No, Nothing Else Matters.”_

     Castiel locks eyes with Dean as the last strains of the music escapes his guitar. Chest heaving, oblivious to the applause that has erupted in the Roadhouse, he stands there.

 

     Aw, fuck it! Dean thinks to himself as he swings the guitar behind him on its strap and closes the distance between him and Cas. Stopping inches from him, he searches Castiel’s face for something, anything that will tell him this is what he wants. A soft sigh escapes Cas’ lips and that does Dean in. His hands come up to cradle his cheeks, watches as Cas’ eyes flutter closed and Dean closes the last of the distance, their lips finally meeting. He feels Cas’ hand move to his waist at the same time he hears a little moan escape from inside Cas and he can’t help but to deepen it. Slowly, achingly slowly, he lets his tongue snake out to trace the line of Cas’ lips and when they part willingly for him it’s all he can do to keep in the groan that bubbles up as they eventually part for air.

     Then the hooting and hollering of the audience they both forgot breaks into their little world and Dean sees the panic return to Cas’ eyes right before he takes off out the back door again. Dean can’t help but wonder what it is with this guy as he wipes his hand over his face with a very different type of groan.


	4. In which Cas is the Only thing that matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas lets out his inner demons... Balthazar hears the unedited version of what happened to Cas, Jo becomes a very trusted friend, and Dean realizes that Cas is the only thing that matters to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok... this one is gonna hurt. I'm sorry. Not for writing it, for it has to be told in order for the story to move forward. If i am apologizing for anything, it is for the pain i know each of you is going to suffer when you read what happened to Cas. I know. Trust me, i know. I cried while typing it out and i shed at least one tear every time i re-read it. But it can't be helped. Please just trust that Dean is going to help Cas get out of that place so it will truly become a distant memory, a blip on the roadmap to their happiness together. If you can get past this, and one more chapter... soon... but not yet... Dean isn't ready to tell me his story yet... but if we can get past this and Dean's story, then i am positive they will find their heavens in each other. 
> 
> Thank you for still reading... i hope you don't hate me after this chapter. Please just remember, i am only the interpreter, the messenger if you will.

     Castiel stands, or paces rather, behind the Roadhouse again, mentally kicking himself one more time for letting himself forget. He can’t forget – not in public. He gets hurt when he forgets. A giant sob breaks from somewhere deep inside Castiel’s chest as he leans back against the nearest car, a black ’67 Chevy Impala, and bends down to keep from hyperventilating. Down he slides until he is sitting in the gravel against the tires, his head back and tears streaming down his cheeks. He is vaguely aware of the door he used being opened once, twice, three times, some muffled voices, and then a fourth. He hears footsteps getting nearer and prays to every god out there that it isn’t Dean.

 

 

 

> “Cassie?” a voice breaks through his prayers and he looks up into the face of his best friend kneeling in front of him. “Are you okay? What happened up there Cassie?”
> 
> “Zar,” he gets out on a sob/sigh and he visibly relaxes though his entire body is still shaking. “I… I can’t… I don’t know what happened! I just… I couldn’t… It wasn’t him…”
> 
> “Shush… it’s okay Cassie. I’m here.” Balthazar sits down beside Castiel and pulls him to his chest, his hands soothing up his arms and down his back as he quiets the panic and the shaking he can still feel as his friends arms wrap around him while he cries.
> 
> “Is he okay?” Castiel hears the words and looks up to see Jo standing there with an almost terrified expression on her face.

     Castiel nods to alleviate the worry he sees etched on the face of the woman he just met while Zar, wonderful Balthazar answers for him.

 

 

 

> “He will be. He just has to remember he isn’t in Chicago anymore. He just needs a few minutes.”
> 
> “Chicago?” Jo questions with a raised eyebrow.

     Balthazar looks from her to his friend and back, shrugging his shoulders.

 

 

> “It’s not my story to tell dear.”

     Just as she is about to let it go and she starts to head back inside, something inside Castiel says he can trust her. She won’t judge him. Somehow, he knows she just wants to understand and help.

 

 

 

> “I was in love.” He starts and she stops. Turning back to the pair, she comes back and sits down on the other side of Castiel waiting for him to continue.

     Castiel looks off into the trees behind the bar, but Jo and Zar both know he isn’t in Kansas anymore. Wherever he is, neither of them can follow, they can only listen and be here for him when he gets back.

* * *

 

 

 

> “I was so in love. And so was Crowley. My only mistake was thinking that Crowley was in love with _me_ more than _himself_.” He sighs deeply before continuing, trying to find the right words begin. “He was 5 years older than I and he was so sophisticated, so suave, so debonair. And I thought he hung the moon. We met at the beginning of my sophomore year in high school. He had graduated 2 years before and had a job at the local pawnshop. I went with my sister Anna to sell off some of her old movies and cds and he noticed my interest in the instruments. While she was browsing, he came over and we talked. We ended up talking for almost an hour before Anna was finally able to drag me out of that store. I only went because I had a promise that he would call me before the week was out so we could talk more.”
> 
> “He was true to his word and after that first call… well, let’s just say I was hooked - line and sinker. He would call me every other night and we would meet somewhere one night every weekend and take me out on a date. He used to take me to the most exotic places. I never realized they were all out of town until later. He never wanted anyone he knew to see us together, you see, and I was too blind to see that. We did this for months. Hell, it was almost a year, before he tried to… do anything… with me. I didn’t understand at first why he wouldn’t do more than kiss me but that first time his hands pulled at my clothes I was gone. I would have given him the world if I could. He was passionate, I was in ecstasy… and when it was over… I was left to clean myself up. It never dawned on me that I deserved more. I had only had one other boyfriend before Crowley and Alfie was way too much of a sweetheart to even try anything with me.”
> 
> “They say the brightest stars burn the hottest right?” Castiel asks to himself, as the other two don’t dare make a sound. Zar, who has gotten the condensed version before now, sits beside him, waiting for the worst, which is yet to come.
> 
> “That’s what I always thought anyway. And he burned so hot. When we were together it was so good! I felt like I could capture the sun. Presents, flowers, dinners, movies… for the rest of my high school career, it went like this. And then graduation came. You see, when I had realized we always went out of town, I didn’t even bother to question it because I had mistakenly thought it was because of the age difference. My parents knew, but didn’t care as he practically treated me with Kidd gloves when we were around them. They knew he made me happy and as long as I was happy and he treated me right, they didn’t care that he was 5 years older than me. I turned 18 a month before graduation, so when it came, and I saw him there, I had thought he was there for me, to congratulate _me_ and celebrate _my_  success… to celebrate that we could be together now with no restraints or restrictions.”
> 
> “That was my mistake. _I_ _thought_. I found him in the crowd after the ceremony finally ended, surrounded by a few of the more ‘macho’ jocks in my class.” A shudder moves through Castiel’s body and his eyes darken about 2 or 3 shades as he feels Balthazar’s hands moving over his arms and back again, pulling him closer as he begins to rock again, for this, the hardest part.
> 
> “I snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. When he… when he turned around… I snaked my hands around his neck and kissed him, there in front of God and everyone. And he… And he… And he **_hit_** me.” Castiel’s hand moves up over his cheek as though he had just felt the first blow seconds ago and his eyes close… but he continues in a very shaky voice.
> 
> “His blow, though it was the worst, in every sense of the word, wasn’t the last. His _buddies_ , Zachariah, Uriel, and Lucifer – who lived up to their nicknames of **Satan and his Fallen Angels** – took turns… they punched me wherever they could make contact - in the stomach, in the back, the sides, the face, the head. And then, when I fell to the ground, they surrounded me and kicked me, kicked dirt on me, spit and called me the most horrid names. So many other people… just standing around… they did _**nothing**_ … some of them were even cheering.” His voice cracks at the last bit and he barely keeps from sobbing again.
> 
> “Finally, I felt kind hands on me as my sister Anna and my brother Gabriel found me. Anna stood up and got right in Crowley’s face. Giving him what-for, and boy was she a sight, at least as far as I could see out of the eye that wasn’t already swollen shut. Lucifer tried to buck up to her and she stood her ground with him too. Then Crowley came around and hunched down near my head and whispered” Castiel swallows hard at what he is about to say, but he knows he has to say it, if only so it can’t poison him anymore.
> 
> “He said: _‘What did you think was going to happen? That the **King of Hell** was going to fall in love with a **brownie queen**?’_ – Then he spit in my face as I lay there. When he stood up though, so did my brother Gabriel. Gabe caught him in the left jaw with a right hook that knocked him on his ass! He and Anna picked me up and carried me to the car so she could take me to the hospital while Gabriel went back and told Mom and Dad what had happened.”
> 
> * * *

 

 

 

 

> “Oh Cas!”

     They all turn at the voice that none of them had realized had come back out of the bar. In seconds, Dean is on his knees in front of Castiel, straddling his lap, his hands cradling the cheeks of this beautiful soul that he has only known for a week but feels as if he has been searching a lifetime for. Dean’s thumbs stroke Cas’ cheeks to wipe away the tears that are still streaming from his eyes.

 

 

 

> “Cas, I am so sorry! I had no idea baby!”

     Darkened blue eyes stare back as Castiel looks up and Castiel loses himself in a different forest of green as the other two, who now feel like interlopers, sneak back inside to make sure everyone knows everything is okay.

 

 

 

> “I,” Castiel looks down, swallows once and sighs heavily. “You have nothing to apologize for Dean. I,” he looks back up into his jade-like eyes, noting the slight shift in color and rightfully deducing it to be from anger, not at Cas, but at what hurt Cas. “I am the one who should be apologizing. I don’t even know you and assumptions were made on my part. However, I was wrong, and… I can admit that. I just… I thought…” Cas looks down again to where Dean is straddling his legs still, sitting there with him, waiting for him to continue.
> 
> “I thought that you would be like him because you always seem to be wearing shirts that scream that you only like girls. And I just couldn’t handle losing my heart to another guy who was so homophobic he couldn’t even see the closet door behind all the clothes he wore.”

     Dean’s eyes narrow in confusion. With a raised eyebrow, Castiel pointedly looks down at the shirt Dean is still wearing, and it dawns on him what Cas means and he pulls off the offending pink thing and tosses it into the open window of the Impala.

 

 

 

> “Cas, baby. Yes, I do like some women, I am not going to lie. I will **never** lie to _you_. Which is why I am saying this now, to you, and to anyone else that will listen. I have not been able to get your beautiful body, soul, and especially those gorgeous sapphire blue eyes of yours, out of my head, or my dreams, for this entire week. And when you kissed me last night?!” Dean leans forward, inches from Cas’ lips, “I knew I had to have you.” He continues to brush his thumbs over the blush that rises in Cas’ cheeks, and when he looks away, Dean gently brings his face back up so he will meet his eyes. “But not if you don’t want this too.”
> 
> “What about everyone in there?” Cas asks tentatively.
> 
> “Who?? My family??" Cas nods slightly. "They already know. I have been out as bi for years, honey. At least a few years.” Dean’s eyes get misty for a moment before he refocuses on the man in front of him. “But that is a story for another time. Right now, my only concern is you.”

     He moves even closer and hesitates at a point where you couldn’t even fit a piece of paper between them without giving one of them a paper cut and moans, waiting.

 

 

 

> “Please, Cas.”

Emerald eyes once again, Cas sees them shimmering with unshed tears of worry, worry for him… and Cas knows he is lost. With an answering moan, Castiel closes the distance, as it were, and they both sigh into each other at the contact.

 _“Slow, keep it slow Dean!”_ he thinks to himself. But now that Castiel has him here, and he is shirtless… Cas doesn’t want to go slow. He wants to taste, to feel EVERYTHING… before Dean has a chance to change his mind. One hand pulls at Dean's neck, deepening the kiss.

 _"Finally!”_ Cas thinks as his other hand pulls at Dean’s side, pulling him closer on his lap, dragging a groan from Dean as his fingernails graze the skin as they roam over his naked torso. Grazing his fingers over Dean's chest, he finds one of his nipples and tweaks it, pinching slightly and swallowing the gasp, and following groan, that escapes Dean's lips.

     Dean slants his mouth over Castiel’s to better deepen the kiss as well and his hands move from Castiel’s cheeks, down over his jaw, fluttering over his neck and down to the collar of his shirt. He hears Cas groan and feels him writhe beneath him in the gravel and the crunch is what breaks through the fog Cas’ lips had him in. They break apart and he hears a little whine come from this amazing creature in front of him and wonders what he had done in a past life that was so good to be worthy of someone such as this. He isn’t sure that he is even, but now that he has Castiel’s attention, and apparently his affection, he is determined to do whatever it takes to _become_ worthy of the love of such a soul.

     He rests his forehead against Castiel’s as they slowly come back to their surroundings, heavily breathing each other in as they stare into each other’s eyes.

 

 

 

> “Is that… Are you wearing Polo???” Cas asks with a grin.

     Dean looks down sheepishly.

 

 

 

> “Yeah, well… I heard it was better than Axe so I thought I would give it a try.”

     A half-hearted chuckle escapes his lips, wondering if Cas is going to tease him about it, but instead, Cas moves to nuzzle closer to his neck and breathes even deeper, ghosting his lips over Dean’s stubbly jaw, causing a shiver to run through his entire body.

 

 

 

> “You keep that up,” he groans, “And I can’t be held responsible for what happens next!”
> 
> “Promise?” comes the question before he feels Cas’ lips leaving light little nibbles along his chin and neck.
> 
> _**“Are you bitches done out here or what??”** _

     Dean sits back on his feet, still straddling Castiel’s legs and he groans as Charlie’s voice cuts through the haze they reentered.

 

 

 

> _“Yes, My Queen!”_ Dean growls out, thankful for the dose of metaphorical cold water over them, but that doesn’t mean he is happy about what it means for his way too tight jeans now.
> 
> “Good! Then get your arses back inside! We want another song!!!” Charlie exclaims before turning to saunter back into the Roadhouse, satisfied that things are all right with the world.

     Cas’ eyes go wide as he remembers everything that has happened in the last few hours.

 

 

 

> “Oh dear lord what have I done?” he whispers.

     Dean, worried he is about to have another anxiety attack or something, gets down closer, looking deep into Cas’ eyes.

 

 

 

> “Are you okay?”
> 
> “Oh yeah…” Seeing the worry on Dean’s face, and realizing what the man mean he waves his hands at him so he will stand up.
> 
> “Yeah, I’m perfectly fine.” Standing up with Dean’s help, he brushes himself off to keep from having to look at dean too closely. “I just… that’s the first time I’ve ever sung in public…” the words trail off as he continues to look down at the gravel.

     Dean ducks his head to be eye level with his blue-eyed beauty.

 

 

 

> “Seriously? ‘Cause I’m with them!” Taking Cas’ chin in his fingers again, he lifts his head, pressing a soft kiss to Castiel’s lips before continuing, “I could listen to your angelic voice for the rest of my life.”

     Knowing his face is flushing red because Dean is now chuckling, he smiles and says,

 

 

 

> “Shouldn’t you put your shirt back on before we go back inside?”

     Looking inside the impala, he roots around and grabs something red. After he straightens it, he notices Cas’ look.

 

 

 

> “Oh, **Baby** , meet my _baby_.” Dean motions from the Impala to Cas and then from Cas back to the Impala he had been leaning against. “Cas, this is my car and I call her ‘ **Baby** ’. Isn't she a beauty?”

     Cas chuckles to himself, eyes downward as he shakes his head, not only at the fact that he has named his car – which is such a **_GUY_** thing to do – but also at the fact that he realizes he has to share a nickname with a car… albeit one of the most gorgeous cars Cas has ever seen.

 

 

 

> “Are you going to take me for a ride?” Cas asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
> 
> “Another time perhaps? Right now, I wanna take my baby inside and show him off.”

     Dean threads his fingers through Cas’ as he takes his hand and that’s when Cas notices the shirt Dean is wearing and groans out loud.

 

 

 

> “What is it now?” Dean asks as he hears it and sees the look on Cas’ face.

     Shaking his head, his body heaving slightly with laughter, Cas finally reads aloud the rest of the red shirt that started all the confusion.

 

 

 

> **_“I’m Not Gay. That’s a rumor started by all the guys I’ve slept with?”_ **
> 
> “What? It’s true. I’m not gay – I’m bi, though I prefer to say _try_ -sexual.” Dean waggles his eyebrows at Cas’ confused look. “I’ll _try_ most anything once, and if I like it, **damn straight** I’m doing it again!”

     Castiel can’t help the belly laughter that rolls out of him as Dean leads him back into the Roadhouse finally. With a smile on their faces, and a fresh drink in each of their hands, they make the rounds and Dean introduces Cas, his new baby, to the crew. As the rest of the night goes on, they sing a few more songs together, have wonderful getting-to-know-you chats with everyone, and life is good for both of them for once.

* * *

 

     When they finally make it back to their dorm at nearly 5 in the morning, Cas pauses at the door to the stairwell that will take him up to his 3rd floor dorm room.

 

 

 

> “Do you want me to walk you up?” Dean asks, worry etched in his face, almost afraid to let this angel out of his sight for fear of never finding him again.
> 
> “No. I will be alright.” Cas says with a smile at the tenderness he sees in Dean's eyes and wonders, not for the first time that night, how he could have ever thought that Dean was like Crowley.
> 
> “Besides, Balthazar isn’t back yet and I would be too tempted to ask you inside to stay the night. And as much as I really, **_really_** want to, it’s still too soon.”

     Dean nods, smiles softly as he leans in, grazing his lips across Castiel’s and captures the sigh that escapes from Cas before turning the knob on the door Castiel is leaned against.

     Castiel feels Dean’s eyes following him in the little window of the door and when he gets to the landing where Dean will lose sight of him, he stops, blows a kiss to him, and waves to him before continuing up the rest of the stairs.

     So lost in each other, neither one of them noticed the set of almost white eyes that narrowly watched from the doorway down the hall, just before ducking back into his and Dean’s room.


	5. In Which Demons and Feelings Run Amok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo spills just enough about Dean's past. Dean worries about his Demons... and Cas Can't Fight his Feelings anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so... I'm so very sorry this took so long to get posted. I think you are going to appreciate the time it took though, so hopefully it is worth the wait. This is where the smut starts... really starts... And really?!?! Who knew Cas could play the keyboard?!?!?! Are there other surprises in store???

     Castiel wanders into the Roadhouse after a long day of classes and studying. He stops just inside the door and sees Dean on guitar and singing, Ash on drums, Kevin on keyboard, and Benny on bass up on the stage for their usual Friday night session. Benny wasn’t there the night Cas had his breakdown outside because he has another job that he has to work on Saturday nights. However, introductions were made the next Friday night and Benny welcomed him into the fold as everyone else has, with open arms, a kind smile, and a very friendly warning of “You hurt him, and I will break you. That’s my boy there and he needs someone to take care of him, not take advantage of him.” Once Benny procured a promise from Cas that his intentions are nothing but honorable, he received a hearty slap on the back and a ruffle of his hair.

     He catches Dean’s eye and smiles at the way his lips curl at the corners whenever Dean looks at Cas. It has been three months since that night out behind this very building and life couldn’t get any better. Cas and Dean have become practically inseparable. They walk to their classes together from their dorm, helping each other study in between classes and before Dean’s practices. Cas goes with Dean to practice and he has even attended a few games. While he still doesn’t understand the appeal of the game itself, Cas would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate seeing Dean in his football uniform. After practice, the pair usually ends up at the Roadhouse for a game or two of pool with their friends and the crowd talks them into singing at least one song together every couple of nights or so. The only reason Cas didn’t come tonight with Dean is because he had a paper due Monday that he wanted to finish with no distractions so his weekend would be free and he promised he would catch up as soon as he finished it.

     Once the nights come to a close, they sometimes take Baby for a drive before heading back to the dorm. Sometimes they just end up in Cas’ room for a little heavy petting since Balthazar seems to be spending most of his time with Meg at her off campus apartment, leaving them Cas’ dorm room all to themselves. Though they still haven’t gone all the way yet, and Dean isn’t pushing for more, Cas isn’t sure how much longer he can hold out. Especially on nights like this, where Dean is looking like a Greek God up on stage, singing to his boyfriend, with all of his emotions shining through in his emerald eyes.

     He hears his name from the other side of the bar and Cas returns from the depths of Dean’s gaze to turn towards the voice. Seeing Zar, Meg, Charlie, and Jo in their corner, he waves before heading to the bar to request his usual, a Tie Me To The Bedpost, from Ruby, the brunette beauty tending the bar tonight, and asking her to retrieve his pool cue hidden in its case behind the bar. They taught Cas how to play, or rather, Dean taught him - a little smile tugs at the corner of his lips in remembrance of some of those lessons. Once he had the opportunity to get enough practice in to be confident in his abilities, he had Ellen order him his own cue stick and case and he has actually gotten exceptionally good at the game. After Ruby hands him his drink and cue case, he makes his way to the group while listening to Dean belt out the lyrics to Jon Bon Jovi’s **_Wanted Dead or Alive_**.

     He watches as they finish their game and Jo tells the other three she wants talk to Cas and for them to play the next round without her. He looks at her questioningly as she takes him by the arm and leads him to the spot they had their first ‘ _heart to heart_ ’.

 

 

 

> “Is everything okay Jo?” Cas queries.
> 
> “Oh, yeah. I um… I just wanted to um…”

     He watches her struggle for the words, and he can’t help but wonder what it is she has to say that could be this troublesome. Nevertheless, he knows she will get it out, and he patiently waits, drinking his Tie Me and listening to the sounds of his amazing boyfriend and band.

 

 

 

> “How much has Dean told you about his family?” she finally gets out.
> 
> “Um… nothing really. I thought you guys were pretty much his family.” comes the reply.
> 
> “Oh. Okay.”

     Cas watches, waiting for some sort of elaboration but gets a blank stare in return. She continues to struggle, and Cas sees the war going on behind her eyes before she makes her decision.

 

 

 

>      “So, I know it’s not my place to tell you this exactly. But I also know that Dean is going to hold off as long as he can before saying anything. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, hell, you are the first guy he’s been open with since… never mind… that is a story, for Dean, for another time. Anyway. I just know that he might not get around to explaining things beforehand and if anything happens, I want you to be prepared.” Jo sighs deeply, steeling her nerves for even this little bit she is about to reveal to Cas.
> 
>      “I’m not going to tell you the entirety of Dean’s life story. That would be really really overstepping my boundaries, even as his sorta-adopted-sister/ex-girlfriend/best-female-friend. But, since it’s December, and the holidays are coming up, I think there are a couple things you should know and at least have a base knowledge of before the metaphorical shit hits the fan.”

     Cas can’t help but to listen to her words as he goes back and forth with watching her and the man he has come to care about almost more than anyone else in his life. He waits patiently, appreciative of the concern he hears in Jo’s voice and tries to give her the attention he knows her upcoming words deserve, but hearing Dean’s voice in the background always does something to his concentration.

 

 

 

>      “I know you have heard us mention Sammy, Dean’s little brother, and you know he is away at Stanford studying law.” She pauses again, steadying herself it seems, before continuing. “He is most likely going to be back here for break in a few weeks since Dean doesn’t fly and won’t drive out to California. The boys each always have a room at Mom’s place, so Sammy is probably going to stay with us.”
> 
>      “The issues have nothing to do with Sammy, not personally anyway.” Jo rushes to reassure Cas when she sees the worried/confused look he shoots between her and Dean. “It’s more, rather, the issues that will probably start up when Sammy comes back. That is if John finds out he has come back. If he even cares at all to find out.” The last was said almost under her breath, as if for her own ears only, but Castiel still caught it.
> 
>      “John?”
> 
>      “John Winchester. Dean and Sam’s dad, well, sperm donor practically.” She spits the last three words out and Cas can feel the… hatred… emanating off her body in waves, and he feels the almost imperceptible tightening of her hand on his arm. He waits for her to continue, not wanting to interrupt with any more questions for fear she might not continue. “I’m not going into details, but just, I think you should be prepared if he does show up. He wasn’t too happy when Dean came out as bi. Called him all sorts of names and screamed a lot, and when Dean screamed back, John hit him… well… _slapped_ him… but still, he had no right as Dean was an adult then and was free to make his own decisions. Anyway, he disowned Dean and that was when Dean… and Sammy… came to live with me, momma, and my dad - Bill, and my brother - Ash. Dean got a lawyer and took custody of Sammy from John, even though he was 15 already.”

     Cas slowly takes all of this information in and he and Jo are thankful that the crowd in the bar has rowdily requested another song that will keep Dean playing on the stage for a little bit longer so she can finish what she is trying to tell him.

 

 

 

>      “Because of the history that John has, which you will have to ask Dean about if you want to know, but I suggest you let him tell you when he is ready, and because of Sammy being old enough to choose where he wanted to live, Dean won custody.”
> 
>      “Momma gave him a job here, Ash and I helped him fill out all of his applications for the grants he needed to go to school here, and he even won a scholarship because of being one of the best football players on his high school team. He walked out of that courtroom with Sammy and never looked back.”
> 
>      “And then Sammy graduated last year. One of the proudest moments of Dean’s life, you could see it in his eyes. He couldn’t love that kid more if he actually was his dad. When John showed up to the graduation ceremony, drunk – **_again_** – Dean went off. Sammy, who turned 18 just before graduation, heard and then saw the commotion and came up and clocked John. He told John that he wasn’t welcome in their lives and he needed to go before somebody called the police.” Jo pauses, her eyes no longer seeing the Roadhouse as it stands but a place Cas can never get to, somewhere back in time, and Cas can only return the favor his friend gave to him three months ago and be here for her when she returns.
> 
>      “I will never forget the look on John’s face when Sammy told him to go. He looked utterly defeated. He tried to say something, I think he was trying to apologize, but it was too little, too late as far as Sam and Dean were concerned. Sam told him he was accepted to and was going to go to Stanford and that he never wanted to see John again and that was the last straw. John started crying and screaming about how he couldn’t leave him too and Sam stopped. He looked right into his dad’s eyes and asked the one thing that shut him up. He said ‘ _How can I leave someone who was never there in the first place?_ ’ Then Sam turned, took his brother by the arm, and dragged him away from their father to rejoin the festivities.”
> 
>      “I think that broke John. Please don’t get me wrong, John didn’t start out a bad father. And he is not a bad person… he just lost himself. You see, there is a lot… and I mean _**A LOT**_ more to this story, but that is going to have to be told by Dean in his own time. It deals with their mother, Mary, and certain other things. But ever since Dean won custody of Sam from John, John has a habit of showing up around here near Christmas, whether he is wanted or not… _sober_ or not… and since this is Sammy’s first year away at school, it is almost guaranteed John will show up sometime because he knows that Sammy will be coming back. He will probably try to talk to the boys, apologize, maybe scream and yell instead of crying. The Winchester men don’t exactly do emotion well, and it might end up in a fight.” Jo shrugs her shoulders in acceptance for what is the boys’ life. “I don’t know what he is going to do. I don’t know if he is going to do anything at all. However, what I do know, and what I wanted to warn you against, is taking anything personally that Dean might do or say right now. He knows that John will probably make an appearance. If he were a gambling man, he would bet money he **doesn’t** have on him showing up. And that expectation is going to have him more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs if ya catch my drift.”
> 
>      “Yeah, I gotcha.” Cas says when it becomes apparent that she is expecting an answer.

     He looks at Dean and realizes he is staring at him while starting a new song. Though Cas doubts he knows it, this particular choice is fairly fitting for the convo he just had with Jo. He can’t help but smile to himself as he mouths the words along with his boyfriend.

 

 

 

>      “When the days are cold, and the cards all fold, and the saints we see are all made of gold. When your dreams all fail, and the ones we hail, are the worst of all, and the blood’s run stale.”

     Cas feels her hand pat his arm then drift up and over his shoulders as she leaves him to his thoughts, watching his beloved unknowingly pour his heart out.

 

 

 

>      “I wanna hide the truth, I wanna shelter you, but with the beast inside, there’s nowhere we can hide. No matter what we breed, we still are made of greed. This is my kingdom come. This is my kingdom come.”

     When Dean gets to the chorus of _**Demons**_ by _Imagine Dragons_ , Cas can’t help but sing along out loud. He has felt the words of this song to his very core. He has never let anyone get as close as Dean, not like Dean, not since Crowley, for fear of what they would say or do. Hearing Dean echo the sentiments on the tail of the illuminating words and worries from Jo, Cas wants to do anything but run away…

 

 

 

>      “When you feel my heat, look into my eyes. It’s where my demons hide. It’s where my demons hide. Don’t get too close, it’s dark inside. It’s where my demons hide. It’s where my demons hide.”

     Cas leans against the wall where he watched Dean from the first night and he can’t help but feel like Dean is singing directly to him, trying to tell him that his past is too ugly, even for Cas. That thought, the pain he hears whenever Dean sings songs like these, Cas knows he feels like he isn’t worthy of love and he can’t help the tear that slips from his eye and over his cheek. All he can think of is showing Dean just how wrong he is, about himself, about his worth. Moments like this, Cas could deny Dean nothing.

 

 

 

>      “Curtain’s call, is the last of all, when the lights fade out, all the sinners crawl. So they dug your grave, and the masquerade, will come calling out, at the mess you’ve made. Don’t wanna let you down but I am hell bound. Though this is all for you, don’t wanna hide the truth.”

     Cas slowly moves closer to the stage, drawn to the angst he sees in Dean’s eyes. He has to fight the urge to take him in his arms and do whatever he can to make Dean forget… everything, anything but what he feels for the man in front of him.

 

 

 

>      “No matter what we breed, we still are made of greed. This is my kingdom come. This is my kingdom come. When you feel my heat, look into my eyes. It’s where my demons hide. It’s where my demons hide. Don’t get too close, it’s dark inside. It's where my demons hide. It's where my demons hide.”

     Cas stops at the edge of the stage directly in front of Dean and he sings the last of the song with all of his heart and love shining through his own shimmering blue eyes.

 

 

 

> D - “They say it’s what you make, I say it’s up to fate. It’s woven in my soul. I need to let you go.”
> 
> C - “Your eyes, they shine so bright. I wanna save that light. I can’t escape this now, unless you show me how.
> 
> Both - “When you feel my heat, look into my eyes. It’s where my demons hide. It’s where my demons hide.
> 
> D – “Don’t get too close. It’s dark inside.
> 
> B - “It’s where my demons hide. It’s where my demons hide.

     The crowd in the bar erupts in applause as the final strains of music fade away, bringing them back to the Roadhouse. They smile at each other and Dean turns to put his guitar on its stand. He tells the boys he is done for the night and they set up the jukebox to play on continuous random so they can all go mingle a little before the bar closes.

     Dean steps down from the stage and his hand slides around Cas’ neck to pull him in for a deep kiss. Cas leans into him and moans as he opens up to Dean, knowing he needs this, they both do, especially after that song and the conversation with Jo. Almost as if he can read Cas’ mind, Dean pulls away, ignoring the little whimper from his boyfriend as he leads them to the bar for another round before heading to join their friends.

 

 

 

>      “You and Jo looked a little friendly over there, deep in conversation for a minute.” He says after asking Ruby for a beer. Cas knows he is trying to ask about the conversation without directly asking what was said.
> 
>      “Yes. It was… interestingly informative.” is the reply that Dean gets. While he has nothing to hide, he isn’t exactly certain how much he should say about the conversation since Jo had told him what she told him in confidence. Plus, he kinda wants Dean to at least admit he wants to know before he tells him what was said.

     Dean looks at him for a moment before taking a swig of his beer and turning to lean against the counter.

 

 

 

>      “Alright, I give. Are you going to tell me what was so interesting? Or do I have to drag it out of you?”

     Jo, who had wandered over to see what was keeping the boys, hears this last part and decides to free Cas from the worry she can hear in his answer by answering herself.

 

 

 

>      “I just warned him about the possibility of… issues… happening during the holidays. I didn’t want our boy Cas here to be blindsided by your old man, that’s all.”
> 
>      “Jo, you sneaky little… I didn’t hear you come up!” Dean about jumps out of his skin as she slides up along the bar beside him.
> 
>      “Yes, Jo. You are quite the ninja!” Cas tries to latch onto the topic change and steers Dean back to the group before anything else can be said.

     As the night closes, Dean and Cas make their way back to the dorm. They stop at Dean’s dorm room and he quietly rummages around for clothes so as not to wake Alastair. Friday and Saturday night, they have been spending in Cas’ dorm because of… well, because of whatever is going on between Balthazar and Meg. Don’t misunderstand, Cas is very happy his best friend seems to have found someone, if that is what this is… he just doesn’t exactly understand the appeal, but whatever floats his boat. Again, they miss the almost white eyes that watch them as they move back down the hall to head upstairs.

     Hours later, something causes Cas’ eyes to open and he snuggles closer to Dean, who passed out with his arm around Cas’ waist. He sighs deeply, amazed once again at how he got so lucky to be able to fall asleep and wake up in the arms of this heaven-sent man. The arm tightens around him, a leg is thrown over his own, and he can’t help the chuckle that softly escapes him. As if he was going anywhere! The notion is laughable. However, certain urges prove unavoidable and after laying there listening to Dean breathing (snoring actually, but you can’t tell that to Dean), he finally has to get up and relieve himself. Working his way, slowly, out from under Dean’s arm and leg, he makes his way to the bathroom down the hall and back. When he returns, he takes a moment, sitting in the chair at his desk, and just watches Dean sleep.

     He looks so… angelic, so… carefree in his sleep. Almost as though he can feel Cas’ gaze on him, Dean’s lips lift at the corner in a soft smile, one that conveys contentment, almost happiness, and Cas sees this tiniest of movements and he can’t help but tear up at the thought that he could actually make this man happy. Oh how he wishes it were true, but he dare not believe it. How could someone as wonderful, amazing, and beautiful, ever really be happy with just lil ol’ Cas? Cas doesn’t want to get his hopes up, that this could actually be his forever, but the song that breaks down the doors in his head next is telling him it’s too late. Not only are his hopes up, his heart is gone, completely and irrevocably to the man lying on his bed, fast asleep.

     Unable to stop himself, he goes to his closet, pulls out his keyboard, and sets it up, quietly but quickly. Adjusting the volume so as not to wake up Dean, he plays a few test cords. He is a little bit rusty, he will admit. It has been years since he actually had a reason to play, and he hates that he let Crowley take that away from him. Yet one more thing that Dean has given back that he will never be able to repay. What is a heart, a lowly little heart, when compared with the multitudes of gifts Dean had given him? He’s given him a chance to rebuild his confidence, an opportunity to be a part of a wonderful extended family that just accepts him for who and what he is, an unending and unquestioning friendship? companionship? He dare not call it love; that would be too presumptuous to put a name to Dean’s feelings before Dean even has. Nevertheless, even if he never says it aloud, Cas knows what he feels for this man is unconditional love – but how is Cas supposed to ever repay him for these gifts? His fingers pick out a few more cords, and then move with confidence over the keys as the words just pour out of him.

 

 

 

>      “I can’t fight this feeling any longer, and yet I’m still afraid to let it flow. What started out as friendship has grown stronger. I only wish I had the strength to let it show.”

     Dean shifts slightly on the bed, turning onto his stomach and his arm moving up under the pillow Cas had used, almost as if he is searching for Cas. After a moment, he settles, and Cas releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and continues.

 

 

 

>      “I tell myself that I can’t hold out forever. I say there is no reason for my fear. ‘Cause I feel so secure when we’re together! You give my life direction, you make everything so clear!”

     Cas lets the music take over as his fingers move on their own, the words just unable to stay contained, he closes his eyes and lets everything he feels for the man asleep in front of him just pour into the words that break free.

 

 

 

>      “And even as I wander, I’m keeping you in sight. You’re a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter’s night. And I’m getting closer than I ever thought I might! And I can’t fight this feeling anymore! I’ve forgotten what I started fighting for! It’s time to bring this ship into the shore, and throw away the oars, forever!”

     His eyes still closed, Cas can’t stop the tears that stream down his cheeks in two rivulets. His voice is shaky as he continues the song, but continue it he must. He can’t stop it now that he is almost done. He squinches his eyes even tighter.

 

 

 

>      “’Cause I can’t fight this feeling anymore. I’ve forgotten what I started fighting for. And if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through your door, Baby, I can’t fight this feeling anymore.”

     He pauses to catch his breath, his voice breaking on some of the words and he tries to keep from sobbing at the emotion that is bubbling up from deep inside at the realizations pouring through him. His deep breaths mask the sound of the movement on his bed though, and since he is keeping his eyes tightly closed, he is unaware that Dean has woken up.

 

 

 

>      “My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you. I’ve been running around in circles in my mind. And it always seems that I’m following you, boy.” Cas can’t see the smile that lights up Dean’s face at the change of that one little word, knowing if he didn’t before that Cas is singing to him. “‘Cause you take me to the places, that alone I’d never find! And even as I wander, I’m keeping you in sight. You’re a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter’s night. And I’m getting closer than I ever thought I might!

     His voice breaking again as the tears continues to fall, his lap and boxer briefs wet, but he doesn’t care. He is so lost in the song he doesn’t hear the noise of Dean slowly slipping out of the bed, watching his angel sing for him, tears starting to form in his own eyes as he hears the raw emotion behind the impromptu concert.

 

 

 

>      “And I can’t fight this feeling anymore! I’ve forgotten what I started fighting for! It’s time to bring this ship into the shore, and throw away the oars forever!”

     Still unknown to Cas, Dean is now on his knees in front of this man. Terrified of doing anything to scare him, he just sits back on his heels, watching his face as he finishes the most beautiful song Dean has ever heard in his life. Tears streaming over both of their cheeks, all Dean can do is smile at the fact that somehow this perfect being chose him, wants HIM – Dean Winchester, flawed, forgotten, unforgiven Dean Winchester.

 

 

 

>      “’Cause I can’t fight this feeling anymore. I’ve forgotten what I started fighting for! And if I have to crawl upon the floor… come crashing through your door… Baby, I can’t fight this feeling anymore!!! Hoooo-oooo-oooo”

     The words trail off and his fingers stop moving and eyes still closed, he feels a gentle hand press upon his cheek, the thumb stroking away the still fresh river of tears, and all Cas can do is lean into it. Cas turns his head, laying a kiss to the palm of the hand that is caressing his cheek, almost afraid to open his eyes for what he might see in Dean’s.

 

 

 

> “Baby?”

     Cas opens his eyes, and at seeing the tears still streaming from Dean’s, a soft, choked sob erupts as he pushes the keyboard fully onto the desk so it won’t fall as he moves to kneel in front of Dean. His hands, the same hands that produced the sounds worthy of the angels, cup his face, his thumbs stroke the tears from Deans cheeks, and when he sees a shy little glint in Dean’s eye as he tilts his head down in the face of such beauty, Cas can’t hold back any longer.

     He lifts Dean’s head up with his hands gentle on Dean’s chin, catches his eye and refuses to let him look away. Slowly, almost at the pace of a snail, Cas moves closer, barely a breath between them, and Dean whimpers, and Cas is lost. Their lips meet in a crash and a moan is drawn from Cas as Dean's hands move to his waist, pulling him closer. Neither realizes the keyboard is still playing the programmed drumbeat in the background, yet they both seem to move to it, turning their heads this way and that, deepening the kiss.

     Cas’ hands move down and back over Dean’s neck, one burrowing up through his hair as the other slides down to grip the shoulder of this man, this gentle, yet ferocious man. Dean growls as their lips part and his move along Cas’ jaw, nipping, kissing, his tongue snakes out and traces the shell of his ear. The rumble from deep inside Cas is everything Dean imagined that first day and more.

     Yes, they have made out, gotten this far in their explorations, but nothing could compare to this… this _need_ to possess, to push each other. In this moment, with Cas in his arms, every ounce of these undeniable feelings between them, as far as Dean can tell, there is no such thing as close enough and he is going to prove it.

     Dean wraps his hands around behind Cas, his lips still leaving trails along his jaw, nibbling on Cas’ earlobe, finding that pulse point just below and tonguing it. When Cas shivers, but not from cold, Dean suckles harder and Cas’ head falls back while his hands grip and pull at Dean’s hair and flesh at the wickedly delicious sensations zinging through his body.

     Dean pulls away, with a groan from Cas, but when he opens his eyes, Cas realizes it’s to get them off the floor. Dean takes Cas’ hands in his and pulls him up, then back. Moving back onto Cas’ bed backwards, very, very carefully, Cas joins him. Both on their knees in front of each other, but on a much softer surface, they come together again, almost as though they need each other more than they need air to breathe.

     Hands around Deans back, he moans as Dean’s mouth finds his throat again. And when Dean resumes his suckling just under the pulse point, he can’t help the loud moan that escapes.

 

 

 

>      “Dean” he whimpers as his fingers curl at Dean’s sides, digging his nails into the soft flesh of Dean’s bare torso. “Oh god, your mouth!”
> 
>      “Mine!” is the answering growl as Dean moves to suckle at another spot, leaving yet another bruise that Cas will wear proudly the next day.

     His own hands move behind Cas to pull him closer. Down his hands move, sliding inside the boxer briefs his lover is wearing, cupping Castiel’s ass, Dean maneuvers one of his thighs between Cas’ and Dean pulls Cas into him to grind against him while Dean moans as he does the same against Cas.

 

 

 

>      Cas gasps as he feels Dean’s cock pressed against his thigh, hot, hard and heavy.  His hand in Dean’s hair tightens and pulls back until Dean actually looks up into his eyes.
> 
>      “Yes, yours!” Cas returns as he takes possession of Dean’s mouth, his tongue thrusting in time with Dean’s hips and his own grind into Dean.

     The feel of their cocks sliding against each other, two thin layers of fabric as a barrier, and Cas is almost undone. But when Dean slides one hand around from his ass to palm his dick, Cas can’t stop the convulsions that shake him for a moment. Dean’s hand curls around to grip his shaft tight while his thumb strokes over the head, spreading the drops of pre-cum that are leaking from the slit and he feels Cas’ hand grip his shoulder even tighter, not caring if he has a handprint bruise there or not. He wants to watch this angel come undone in his arms.

     As he begins to stroke Cas’ dick, Dean pushes his underwear down so he can see everything. When they are finally around Cas’ knees, Dean looks up and sees the unbridled rapture in his eyes and he pushes him even further. He leans forward and takes Cas’ lips in his as he turns him to lower him to his back on the bed they share every weekend and as he continues to slant his mouth over Cas’, his hand continues to grip and stroke Cas as he pants beneath him, arching into his touch. Cas’ hips lift off the bed as he thrusts into Dean’s fist and he can’t even make one coherent word as Dean brings him closer to the edge.

     Dean leans over him, swallowing the moans and grunts from Cas as he caresses his cock, his hand still spreading the ever-flowing juices that he is milking from his beau. Laying beside him, lengthwise, Dean rubs himself along Cas’ thigh in an effort to assuage his own need long enough to make this beauty before him let go.

 

 

 

> “What baby?” He whispers into his ear. “Tell me what you want?! Whatever you need, it’s yours!”
> 
>      “You”… Cas takes a shaky breath as he tries to focus beyond the emotions and the sensations brought forth by love he feels for this man… “Cum… with me…”
> 
>      “Anything!” Dean moans as he shoves his own boxers down and kicks them off before positioning himself over Cas. When their members are flesh to flesh, they both instinctively rut against each other and it draws another moan from each, filling the almost silent room.

     Somewhere in that lust filled haze they are in, Cas has a moment of lucidity and he blindly fumbles inside the drawer of his bedside table for a tube of lubricant. Once found, he shoves it into Dean’s hand as he leans up and takes his lips with a feral growl, knowing he can’t hold out much longer. This blissful torture is almost too much and all he wants is for Dean to fall with him.

     Rutting against him, their cocks sliding against each other a torturous rapture for them both, Dean opens the tube and squeezes out a good amount into his palm. Tossing the tube back onto the table, Dean moves one elbow to hold his weight up beside Cas’ head so he can lean back and watch Cas’ face as he takes them both in his one hand.

 

 

 

>      “Uuuuunnnnhhhhh… Oh… my god Dean!” Cas moans as he feels the hand of his lover, his love, stroking them both together, bringing them closer to climax together. All he can do is meet him thrust for thrust, raising his hips to grind into Dean, panting as Dean holds one hand above his head while the other grips his shoulder to steady himself for better thrusting.
> 
>      “Harder?” A nod is the reply along with a whimpered “Faster! So close Dean, so close!”

     Their breaths fill the room as they pant faster,  harder as the boys chase this bliss they have found in each other and when Cas comes, Dean can’t look away, Dean’s name on Cas’ lips and one tear slipping from the corner of Dean's eye as he follows. Their bodies stiffen and Dean strokes them through their orgasms as they coat each other with their fluids. Shot after shot covering their stomachs and chests until Dean’s hand is completely covered and they both are spent.

     Dean drops his head to rest against Cas’ forehead, his body to the side, only partly lying on top of Cas as they slowly recover. Dean is the first to and he leaves kisses all over Cas’ face, his forehead, each of his still closed eyelids, his nose, before taking his lover's lips again.

     Once he pulls away, Cas finally opens his eyes, their breathing and heart rates finally steadying. Cas’ eyes go wide at the sight he sees. Dean has brought his hand covered with them up to his lips and he tastes their mixture. Cas moans and Dean looks down with a smile. With no words being said, he offers the hand to Cas and Cas greedily laps up the offering, licking Dean’s hand completely clean before licking his own lips with a satisfied grin.

     When Dean’s legs decide to work again, he rummages around on the floor and finds his favorite tee. He uses it to clean them both of them up before sliding back into bed, covering their still naked bodies up with the sheet, pulling Cas close to his heart and falling into the most peaceful sleep he has had in probably years.


End file.
